Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Hungary and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Mission of Burma to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Dead Boys. All the underground hits.
All Stockholm Monsters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeru the Damaja record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oppenheimer Analysis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Babytalk,
Au Pairs,
The Doobie Brothers,
Albert Ayler,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Victims,
The Skatalites,
Ituana,
Aaron Thompson,
La Düsseldorf,
Pere Ubu,
Fear,
The Black Dice,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Crooked Eye,
Warsaw,
Moby Grape,
John Foxx,
Inner City,
The Shadows of Knight,
CMW,
The Red Krayola,
Minutemen,
Black Flag,
John Cale,
The Angels of Light,
The Litter,
Brothers Johnson,
The Stooges,
The Pretty Things,
Glenn Branca,
Faraquet,
Gong,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Zero Boys,
The Dirtbombs,
Colin Newman,
Anakelly,
ABC,
L. Decosne,
The Knickerbockers,
Arcadia,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Detroit Cobras,
Crispy Ambulance,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The American Breed,
F. McDonald,
Todd Rundgren,
Warren Ellis,
Stiv Bators,
Echospace,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Nick Fraelich,
ABBA,
Susan Cadogan,
Altered Images,
The Beau Brummels,
Deakin,
the Normal,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine, Major Organ And The Adding Machine, Major Organ And The Adding Machine, Major Organ And The Adding Machine.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.